


It doesn't feel like it's yours until you give it a name

by Kaerith



Series: Witcher Prompt One-Shots [4]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Cunnilingus, Enlightened sexual acceptance for a fantasy medieval world, Intersex, M/M, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Past Torture, Rimming, Service Top Jaskier | Dandelion, Sweet, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:08:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24051097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaerith/pseuds/Kaerith
Summary: Geralt went through additional experimental mutations as a child and young witcher.'They tried to unsterilize me. Didn't work. Backfired, I suppose in a way.'Eskel tipped his head to the side. 'Seen you naked plenty of times. Not missing anything that I can tell.''It, uh, added something,' Geralt said
Relationships: Eskel & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Witcher Prompt One-Shots [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1791685
Comments: 19
Kudos: 502
Collections: Good Relationship Etiquette (familial included) - or Good BDSM Etiquette - or Good Relationship and BDSM Etiquette, Witcher Kink Meme (Dreamwidth)





	It doesn't feel like it's yours until you give it a name

**Author's Note:**

> Written for The Witcher Kink Meme. Prompt: One of the mutations Geralt got special was a Vagina. He's never used it. https://witcherkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/429.html?thread=206509#cmt206509
> 
> I was nervous about this because I don't write about the V very much.

It was another winter back at Kaer Morhen. Eskel was here, and Coën, so Geralt wasn't the sole focus of Vesemir's attention. The mood all night had been quiet and introspective with the wind howling around the broken castle like an army of banshees. He and Eskel had retreated to Eskel's room which was less draughty than Geralt's. They watched the flames in the brazier and passed a bottle back and forth.

'When do you think my hair will turn white?' Eskel asked idly.

'When you're 3,000 years old like Vesemir,' Geralt joked. 'At least I don't have to worry about that.'

'Yeah. Lucky you. The Wolf School's favorite student.'

'Favorite mutant,' Geralt corrected. 'I was just special because somehow the mutations just took to me.'

'Years of extra torture,' Eskel said, with sympathy. 'I wanted to rescue you. They ended up sending me out of the castle on “missions” so that I wouldn't lurk in the hallways and listen to you scream.'

'Shit,' Geralt said. He had never known that. He had figured either the other students didn't care or the trainers refused to allow him any comfort. He tipped his drink in Eskel’s direction. 'That's nice to know. Thanks.'

Eskel chuffed a bitter half-laugh. 'I would'a taken some of those concoctions to spare you. Wasn't fair how they kept using you. You think your extra mutations are worth it?'

It was Geralt's turn to laugh humourlessly. 'Not all of them. Hair never did anything but make me recognizable. Never even used... some of them.'

'There are some skills you don't use?' Eskel asked. 'Like what, perfect pitch? Is the world missing the gift of your singing voice?'

'You know damn well I can't sing. And I definitely wouldn't refer to it as a gift.'

'What?' Eskel asked. 'You can tell me.'

Geralt shook his head. 'Bad enough I had to tell Vesemir. He never even explained to me what it was.'

'You have to tell me now,' Eskel said, though his voice was still calm and only on the verge of slurring.

Geralt considered it. He did trust Eskel. Maybe they could laugh about it and then change the subject, and it wouldn't feel like the knowledge was such a burden. 'They tried to unsterilize me. Didn't work. Backfired, I suppose in a way.'

Eskel tipped his head to the side. 'Seen you naked plenty of times. Not missing anything that I can tell.'

'It, uh, added something,' Geralt said, feeling vulnerable and like he was perched on the edge of a cliff, not knowing whether he would keep his balance.

'Not boobs,' Eskel said, wrinkling his face in pretend disappointment. 'Something else down there?' He threw out casually, meeting Geralt's gaze and not staring at his crotch in horror like Vesemir had.

Geralt grunted an affirmative 'Hmm.' He continued, 'When I told Vesemir he said to never tell anyone or show anyone. Didn't even tell me what it was; only figured it out the second time I saw a whore.'

'The second time?'

'I was far too drunk the first time,' Geralt admitted, which got a laugh from his friend.

Eskel stayed silent for a while, taking in this information. 'Fuck. Telling that to Vesemir... old man had probably forgotten what one looks like. Can you imagine him saying the word-- any word-- for that? Probably for the best that you aren't scarred with that memory.'

They both laughed and Geralt felt an ease at Eskel's easy acceptance. He had thought he was such a freak for so long.

'You know, that happens natural sometimes. People and animals born with both parts. Usually one doesn't work. I'm assuming your cock works, but do you know if your... womanly... parts...' Eskel broke up into chortles and Geralt actually joined in because he knew that his friend wasn't laughing at him. 'Melitele's tits, what do you call it?'

Geralt shrugged. 'Don't think about it much,' he admitted. 'Do you have a name for your cock?'

Eskel made a face. 'I refer to my cock as my cock. Are you admitting you have a nickname for your prick? Don't tell me it's Little Geralt!' Their laughter was less chortling and more giggling at this point, as they got more pissed.

'Hell no!' Geralt said.

'Well you should decide what you wanna call it. Suggestions: pussy, cunt, cunny, vagina, beaver, silk purse--' They both giggled again, and continued listing all the euphemisms they could remember or make up. 'No seriously,' Eskel eventually brought the conversation back to the point, 'You gotta name it. Like a horse, it doesn't feel like it's yours until you give it a name you like.'

Geralt took a breath but the other witcher interrupted him, 'DON'T say roach, 'coz I will end up laughing my ass off whenever you mention your horse. "Enjoy riding your roach!"' Eskel cackled, setting them off again.

Their faculties had devolved enough that any further conversation was even less constructive.

Over the ensuing years Eskel never seemed to betray Geralt's confidence. He never treated him differently or made any snide remarks. When they were drunk there was the occasional shared laugh whenever Roach was mentioned, but they never explained the joke to Vesemir, Lambert, or anyone else.

The conversation had been freeing to Geralt. He still shied away from touching it, but he had mentally decided that he liked the word cunny best. It wasn't technical, nor did it have any connotations of weakness like the term pussy or sound insulting like the word cunt. Cunny sounded like what it was: a vulnerable little pocket of his body that he kept a secret. He had decided that it wasn't functional, and had basically decided to continue on as he had, just with a term for it.

No one he bedded ever noticed it because they all wanted his prick inside of them. Geralt didn't shy away from the idea of having a male lover take him, but he never felt like giving anyone that trust so it was kind of a moot point. Until Jaskier.

Jaskier was a sexual connoisseur, or at least he called himself that. He never bragged about what he did with specific partners, but he would loudly give detailed information on how two (or more) people could pleasure each other. When he had propositioned Geralt with the offer of sex, Geralt had no idea that their friendship would evolve into... well, a relationship.

As months passed, Geralt could tell that Jaskier had caught on to Geralt's misdirections and blatant requests for him not to touch his arsehole and behind his balls. The witcher was thankful that the bard took his limits seriously and never asked why. He supposed that respect was one of the things that made Dandelion such a legendary sex partner.

It was only when Jaskier broached the concept of monogamy that Geralt felt the first impulse to tell him.

'I want you to know that I love you. I haven't had any desire to sleep with anyone else since you, and I wanted to know whether you are willing to be exclusive or if you would prefer to be free to... see other people,' Jaskier said tentatively as they sat alone on a moor one night.

Geralt nodded to himself before confessing, 'I have a secret.' His heart felt like it had jumped into his throat. He knew that Jaskier wasn't the type to spill confidences, but what if he was interrogated? Or blackmailed? It was a reasonable caution, but Geralt wanted this relationship more than he feared those possibilities. He explained the additional experimental mutations he had undergone as a child and young witcher. He explained that he had a small opening that no one had ever touched.

Jaskier only looked relieved at Geralt's admission that he felt the same way and stayed politely quiet and attentive as Geralt told him about his unusual anatomical addition. When the witcher was done, Jaskier simply nodded and took his hand.

'I appreciate you telling me. I'll admit that I am intrigued, but I promise I will never touch you there without your consent. Now we haven't really discussed this, but are you only interested in continuing to fuck me or are you open to switching things up?'

Jaskier's simple acceptance was all Geralt had hoped for. Until about half a year into their exclusive relationship.

Geralt had finally decided to let Jaskier fuck him, and was obediently lying face down on the bed of an expensive townhouse that belonged to a friend of the bard's. Jaskier had spread the witcher's legs and was licking him in the most intimate of places. There was a sudden and unfamiliar flash of pleasure that made Geralt kick a foot and gasp.

'Sorry, sorry!' Jaskier immediately apologized. 'I didn't mean to, it was an accident!'

'What was that?' Geralt asked, propping himself up with his arms and turning to catch a glimpse of his lover's face.

'Went a little too far down,' Jaskier said.

'It... felt really good. What did you do?'

'Must have accidentally licked your little love nub,' Jaskier said. He looked torn between being ashamed and preening.

'Love nub?' Geralt echoed, making a face. 'I prefer to call it my... my cunny,' he said, feeling both brave and terrified at saying the word out loud for the first time.

Jaskier grinned like he had been given a present. 'That's a lovely word for it, but I was saying I may have brushed against your clit.'

'Do I have one of those?' Geralt wondered.

Jaskier practically waggled his eyebrows as he leered. 'I can find that out for you!'

Geralt turned the offer over in his mind then nodded and lay back down.

'I want you to know that I am so excited to be doing this for you,' Jaskier said. 'I feel honored that--'

Geralt bucked his hips and playfully ordered, 'Get to work!'

Jaskier did, pushing a wadded-up blanket under his lover's stomach to prevent him from being able to rub his cock to completion. 'I want to see how many times I can make you come from that pretty little slit before your prick gets any attention.' He then bent down to his task, prying gently at that opening and the folds around it with the gentlest touches. A damp fingertip carefully brushed against that spot that made Geralt's breath hitch again. 'Right there,' his lover said smugly. 'There's your precious pearl. Hidden right here in your lovely little cunny.'

Geralt felt his mind and body fight against the pleasure and emasculation he felt at being talked about in such flowery terms. He liked it but knew that he shouldn't. He decided to let Jaskier's words go unremarked upon for now.

The bard went to work with his tongue, lapping skillfully at Geralt's cunny and clit with precision, sliding his hands over his partner's bum and thighs, and occasionally letting his mouth wander back up to his anus so he didn't overwork that tender flesh.

Geralt moaned and writhed under all the stimulation, Jaskier pulling strange shivery orgasms from his cunny that made him gasp as his thighs shook uncontrollably. His hands grasped at Jaskier and the bedclothes and even his own hair to keep from grabbing at his cock as the erotic assault drove him out of his mind.

Jaskier figuratively lapped up all those sighs and shivers as he kept his tongue and fingers working. Geralt would practically vibrate when he reached another peak from Jaskier's attentions, and Jaskier was torn between pride and envy as his lover came repeatedly. Eventually, when his skin was a deep pink and wet and tender from the attention, Jaskier fisted Geralt's prick until he came with a long and exhausted groan.

Jaskier pulled away and wiped his mouth and chin, extraordinarily pleased with himself. He stretched out next to Geralt and examined the side of his lover's face that he could see. 'Enjoy yourself?'

Geralt slit one eye open and tried to stifle a smirk. 'Like you can't tell. Stupid, smug bard.'

'Best lover on the continent, you mean,' Jaskier corrected, making Geralt launch an attack. He held Jaskier down and bit at his neck all over as the bard tried to twist away from him, laughing. His half-hearted shoves eventually led to Geralt moving down to put his mouth to a much more reciprocal task, and it didn't take much work for Jaskier to come.

'Thanks,' Geralt admitted much later, his voice verging on shy.

'Darling,' Jaskier cooed, making his big bad witcher roll his eyes. 'I love your cunny almost as much as I love you.'

A faint frown wrinkled Geralt's brow. 'It isn't a real one, right?'

Jaskier considered how to answer and decided on, 'It is the only dainty thing about you. Honestly,' he said as Geralt's eye roll made an encore, 'Honestly, it doesn't seem like it can take a cock, but that doesn't make it not real. If it gives you pleasure then that's all you need it to do. It would make a lovely plaything for me amidst all your other wonderful toys,' Jaskier giggled at Geralt's expression of disgust at his words choices. 'But I'll never touch it again if you don't want me too.' He was pretty certain of his earlier performance, so the bard allowed himself a moment to sigh mournfully at the idea of the loss and laughed again when Geralt nearly shoved him off the bed.


End file.
